The Stolen Prince
by xsourceofmagicx
Summary: Haruhi Fujioka plunged into freezing cold waters, alone. Tamaki Suoh was shepherded to France. And Eclair Tonnerre really didn't mean for any of this to happen. Alternative anime-ending. Drabble-ish.


For all those who have not seen the anime, Eclair is an anime-only character, the youngest daughter of a HUGE French MNC that has bought, recently, a lot of heavy-weight French companies.  
To secure the Suoh company, and to ensure an heir, Tamaki's grandmother wants her grandson to marry Eclair. In return, he can see his mother, who, in the anime, works as a maid in Eclair's home.

I OWN NOTHING YOU RECOGNIZE.

Happy Reading. xx

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Tamaki broke down when he heard the news.

His father, his now only contact with the world he left behind, was the one to break it to him.

"…was hospitalized at the best Ohtori hospital and had doctors working round the clock. I'm sorry Tamaki but her lungs were just too weak after having been under water for so long. Ranka and all your friends are devastated."

That was the only part Eclair had been able to hear and, with a sinking feeling of dread, remembered a bridge, a girl, and a long, dark fall.

Tamaki Suoh replaced the phone gently, hands shaking and turned around, violet eyes wide, wide with horror, shock, grief, loss and everything he could not name.

His mother approached him, worried.

His mother didn't know the girl, the club. Since marrying Eclair and returning impromptu to France, Tamaki had been deliberately happy as if smiling would rid the ache in his heart every time he looked at an empty room, or at Eclair.

He was a shadow, a shadow of his once-brilliance: no longer capricious, creative or whimsical.

Even Eclair had no words and she walked to stand next to her maid and husband.

"She's dead. She's dead. Haruhi-Haruhi is dead." Eclair winced at the rising hysteria.

Tamaki's mother, a kind, beautiful soul much like her son and nothing like her daughter-in-law (in Eclair's guilty view) reached out to cup her son's face. "Tamaki, your friend-"

Whatever words of comfort she had to offer, Tamaki didn't hear.

"The girl I love is dead!"

Tamaki wasn't looking at any of them, hands on his piano for support. He was crying, tears running down his face like rivers, but Eclair didn't even think Tamaki was aware of that.

And Eclair's poor, selfish heart was shattering too for all she had ever wanted was a Prince but she had stolen someone else's now and now the true princess was dead- much like the Prince's spirit.

She didn't mean it. She hadn't meant any of this.

Tamaki's mother's hands flew to her mouth. "But-Lady Eclair-"

"Arranged. Arranged, arranged, arranged."

And now the truth was dropping from Tamaki's perfect lips and sparkling teeth like pearls. Looking at him now, Eclair could see none of the charming, coherent, wooing Host he had been; all she saw was a broken Prince.

"Haruhi-Haruhi is dead, mother. And I will never see my friends again and Haruhi-beautiful, kind, intelligent, brave Haruhi- is dead!"

It was like watching a crescendo, for Tamaki was trembling all over and he could barely see for the tears clouding his vision. A rising crescendo, much like her guilt.

"And it's all my fault."

Tamaki's last words made him crumple for he sank to the floor, desperately trying not to feel but maybe the problem was that Tamaki always felt too much and this time it would kill him.

His mother sobbed, clutching her son's hands and Eclair couldn't face them. Couldn't own up to the consequences of her actions.

She never divorced Tamaki- maybe out of kindness for Tamaki would never be able to function normally again. The once sunny boy who could look at everyone with love and a smile was dead.

Dead. Hollowed out from inside. Living flesh but soulless.

And Eclair knew it was her fault.

Haruhi Fujioka was dead.

The Host Club was dissolved.

And Tamaki Suoh was a ticking time bomb.

It was all her fault.

(This is what happens when you mess in fairy tales that aren't yours, Eclair.)

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Please Read and Review. Constructive Criticism is always welcome.


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